


It's lonely at the top

by Alphawave



Series: The universe sings [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, I KNOW IT'S A CRACK SHIP but IT HAS SO MUCH CHEMISTRY, I'll let you guys imagine what they get up to, If you came for actual crack this is the wrong place, If you think I won't treat these DILF scientists seriously in this fic you are absolutely right, M/M, Surprise Ending, The potential for angst and hurt and fluff UGH, The ship may be crack but the story ain't, so damn good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-12 04:02:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20152429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphawave/pseuds/Alphawave
Summary: Sigma explores his past as he remembers the love that blossoms between him and Dr Harold Winston, the one man in the universe that understands him, and shares in his loneliness.





	It's lonely at the top

**Author's Note:**

> Is this a crack ship? Probably. Am I going to give it the emotional gravitas it deserves? ABSOLUTELY.

It’s lonely at the top

Siebren didn’t recall the first time he met Harold Winston, but he certainly remembered the second time. They apparently met once back on earth, when Siebren was petitioning for funding by the other scientific companies. Harold was in the background during the video call when Siebren was campaigning to join Lucheng Interstellar’s then-brand new mission, but he never spoke. In a sense, their real first meeting was later, up on the surface of the moon. He remembered when the spaceship propelled him out of the atmosphere and into the inky depths of space, him and a few Lucheng Interstellar astronauts buckled up in the typical astronaut gear. The others were only there to monitor the progress of the space station. None of them had the twinkle of wonder in their eyes. None of them looked upon the stars in utter amazement like Siebren did. They didn’t think of this trip as a step forward to understanding the world. It wasn’t too surprising that he did not make friends with them.

As he first stepped foot on Horizon Lunar Colony, went through the standard decompression procedure that he’d been taught and retaught thousands of times, he was ashamed to admit that his thoughts were not on his research or the stars beyond but on the academic worth of his new peers. It was a condition of his contract that he collaborated with the other researchers on a paper. He had never met the staff of Horizon before today. Time will tell whether his months here will be fruitful or pointless.

At the entrance to the main section of the colony stood a single man. He’s roughly Siebren’s age, with salt and pepper hair and a kind smile. If the horrendous five o’clock shadow and white lab coat didn’t prove to Siebren that he was a researcher, the way the other astronauts shoved past the man proved it.

He wiped his coat down, frowning as the other astronauts went off on their own accord. It took him a second to realise that Siebren had stayed behind, staring at the walls and ceiling. He pushed up his glasses with his left hand, extending his right in greeting. “S-sorry, I didn’t notice you there. I’m Dr. Harold Winston. You must be Dr. Siebren de Kuiper, right? It’s an honour to have you here.”

Siebren took the offered hand and shook firmly. He’s mildly surprised by the strength in the man’s grip, but didn’t remark upon it. “Not the friendliest bunch, are they.”

“No, not really.” Harold glanced left and right before leaning forward conspiratorially. “Keep this between you and me, but they’re pissed at me for what I did last time.”

“What did you do?”

“The last time they came over, I had just finished administering the gene therapy treatment to Specimen 8. They were only here to check the base’s integrity, same like today, only one gentlemen in that group was not an animal fan, and the other specimens could smell it. I turned my head, and in that moment Specimen 8 had escaped from its cage and ran up the guy’s pants and…well…let’s just say it wasn’t a very pleasant place to bite.” Harold smirked. “Or at least, I _told _them Specimen 8 escaped from its cage.”

Siebren laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. He’d laugh longer, but Harold suddenly put his hand on his mouth, muffling him. The Lucheng astronauts return, scowling at Harold before continuing onward. He wasn’t sure if it was out of the suddenness of the action, or whether it’s the latent stages of space adaptation syndrome, but all he could focus on was the skin on his lips, impossibly warm and soft.

Long after the astronauts have left, the hand is still over his mouth. If he squinted, Harold’s eyes looked cloudy and unfocused, a flame rekindled after months of winter.

Harold blinked rapidly, and the flame was gone. He took a step back, then another, wiping his hand hastily on his coat. “S-sorry,” he smiled nervously. “It gets a bit lonely up here.”

There was more to Harold’s words, but Siebren didn’t call Harold out on it. He forced himself to smile politely. “I’ll forgive you if you give me the grand tour. I’ve only heard wonderful things about this facility and the research your team have been doing.”

In all of Siebren’s life, he had never seen someone smile so brightly.

Harold led him around the base, making sure to stop by all the important areas. They walked past the laboratories, the simian’s centre, the hydroponics centre, and the garage where they stored their moon rovers, to name just a few. As they moved on, Harold spoke less about the Colony and his team’s research, and more about his fondness for the subjects.. Any other time Siebren might have been annoying, but Harold’s face lit up, and he spoke like he was singing his praises to the gods, and Siebren found that he was enraptured entirely. As they passed by a particularly sunny window, Siebren swore that Harold glowed.

It’s in the final stretches to the sleeping quarters that Siebren was finally able to put a word in. He tried his best to remain stoic and impassive—he had to prove himself as a reputable scientist after all—but one glance at the stars outside and soon he was waxing poetic about the mysteries of the universe. There was passion in his voice, so desperate to be unleashed from its cage that it spilled eagerly down his lips.

He only caught himself when they came to a stop in front of what Siebren assumed to be his new sleeping quarters. A piece of notepaper was stuck in front of the door, his name lovingly written in blue marker.

“You really do love space, don’t you?” Harold remarked.

Siebren cleared his throat loudly. It wasn’t enough to stop the heat rising from his cheeks. He could imagine the face his mother would make if she was here, seeing him blush like a schoolgirl.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” He walked two steps backward to his own sleeping quarters, directly opposite Siebren’s. “If you are half as enthusiastic for your research, I think we can do great things together.”

“You’re…you’re sure about that?”

“I’m serious. All the other scientists here, they’re passionate about their work, but they don’t see the beauty in the world beyond. You and I might be the only ones that understand that.” He gestured to his door. “You ever want or need anything, I’m right here.”

Another time, Siebren might have told Harold the same. At that moment however, he was overwhelmed by a strange heat growing within his chest. He retreated into his quarters, unpacked the few things he had been allowed to take onboard, and lied down on his bed, staring into the ceiling until the heat dissipated into the air.

He spared no thought for the people he left behind on earth. They didn’t hold a candle to the enigmatic Dr. Harold Winston.

* * *

The other scientists at Horizon were certainly smart and polite, but Siebren was closest to Harold by far. In the laboratory, they worked together with ease, ideas and discussions rattling off at rapid speed. They never stopped talking to each other, and when they did, that was only because they were apart. Many of the scientists joked that they were boyfriends, but Harold never took offense, and if Siebren was being totally honest, neither did he. He had never connected with another person as well as he did with Dr. Harold Winston. It didn’t matter what people thought. All that mattered was that he found someone like him, who appreciated his eccentricities and passions.

Evidently, Harold thought the same way. The distance between the two of them grew shorter with every rotation of the Earth's axis.

It was but a natural progress that they began to visit each other in their private quarters. Harold was an avid reader, obsessed with all forms and genres of literature. In his room he has crafted a makeshift bookshelf where he kept the physical copies, hidden away from sight. Physical books could be a dangerous weapon in the simians’ hands, and thus it was considered contraband. In response to learning this secret, Siebren revealed his own secret collection: a digital stockpile of every single song and album he had ever heard in his life, stored in a tiny USB, and a pair of ear buds, smuggled in a microscopic slit in his suitcase.

Bonds are forged over secrets, and thus they grew closer still. In the nighttime, when all the other scientists are asleep, Harold would creep over to Siebren’s door and knock in a precise pattern: two knocks in rapid succession, a pause, one knock, another pause, two quick knocks. Siebren would open the door and silently hand one of the earbuds over. Harold would always put it in his left ear, Siebren placing his in his right ear. They’d curl up together in a tiny beanbag chair, the only place that the desk lamp would reach, and Harold would open up the book he had chosen for that night.

Some nights Harold would read out loud, his voice a quiet harmony. Other nights he’d remain silent, reading in peace. A few rare occasions in those silent moments, Siebren took the book from Harold’s hands and read in his place. He wasn’t used to reading out loud, stumbling over his words every now and then, his voice harsh and abrasive like sandpaper, but Harold listened to him anyway with rapturous attention.

It wasn’t uncommon for them to fall asleep in those moments, nestled into each other, like the world didn’t matter. Like the universe was made for the two of them alone.

The holiday season came. All of the other scientists had exited the space station. It was standard practice to let the majority of the scientists go home for the holidays. The base was well equipped with enough autonomous robots to maintain the base while everyone was away but Siebren and Harold chose to stay behind. They sat in the break room, alone, listless. Two empty mugs sat in front of them on the table. A recent batch of eggs sent from the sister base some kilometres away meant that they had the means to make something that tasted like eggnog. It was a pity they didn’t allow alcohol up here. Siebren could make a pretty decent _advocaat _with the ingredients on hand.

It made sense for Siebren to stay behind. His contract specifically stated he remained on Horizon until the end of his six months contract, which will terminate on Valentine’s day. As for Harold’s reason of staying behind, it remained a mystery. Even though microgravity was all but terminated at the moon base, standard practice was that astronauts and scientists stayed for a year maximum. From what Siebren gathered, Harold had been here for two years.

He’d say something, but an unknown tension grew between them. It was palpable and malleable, so thick that Siebren could taste it in the air. Harold was avoiding his gaze, adjusting his glasses nervously, but if Siebren were to turn his head away, he could feel Harold’s eyes roaming over his body.

With everyone gone, something between them had changed.

“You have family?” Harold asked.

Siebren blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry?”

“I just…I never asked. You know,” he gestured at the Christmas decorations. “Thought today of all days would be a good time.”

Siebren glanced down at his hands folded over his lap. His Christmas playlist chimed over the speakers, but it didn’t give him any comfort. “In terms of immediate family, I only have my mother. I’ve got cousins and nephews and nieces, but they’re scattered across the globe.” He poured himself another cup of eggnog. “I haven’t seen any of them in seven years. Almost exactly seven years, now that I think about it. Our last big family gathering was last Christmas back in _Den Haag_, crowding together for some _gourmetten_.”

“No one else in your life?”

“No,” he replied. “I’ve been too busy with my career. The universe’s mysteries have still yet to be seen to mankind, and I will not rest until I find it. I never had the time or interest in romance.” He glanced at Harold. “You?”

A sad look passed over Harold’s eyes and faded away like a comet. “A sister. She lives in Lijiang with her family. We weren’t close though. If I went down to Earth today, she won’t be there to see me.”

Siebren frowned. “No partner yourself?”

“I never found the one. Tried for the better half of my twenties, and when I found failure after failure, I…well, I just kinda gave up. By the time I decided to get back on the saddle, no one wanted a greying, middle aged man like myself.”

“I find that hard to believe. You look rather handsome for your age, and I can only imagine you were equally as attractive when you were younger.” Siebren quickly waved a hand over his face. “Not that I’m the best judge of beauty myself.”

Siebren didn’t know if he imagined the reddish tint on Harold’s cheeks. “Guess I haven’t found anyone that appreciates me yet.” He shook his head, a bittersweet smile forced upon his lips. “At least I’ve got a new family here with the primates. Who needs a partner when you’ve got thirty children?”

The look flashed over Harold’s eyes again, and this time Siebren understood what it meant. “Are you lonely, Harold?”

“L-Lonely?”

“Yes, lonely,” Siebren frowned. “You’ve never mentioned anyone back on Earth until now, and I don’t see you talk to the others on your team all that often.”

Harold shrunk in his seat. Siebren sighed, rising from his seat to approach him. He was significantly taller than Harold, but staring down at him like this, he looked weak and wanting. He didn’t know what force compelled him to run his hand down Harold’s scalp, but he didn’t fight it. A microcosm of emotions breathed out from Harold’s lips; desire and hurt and hesitation fighting for dominance. They looked into each other’s eyes, saw the universe reflected back, and it’s divinely beautiful, escaping all other description.

“Harold,” Siebren started then paused. His heartbeat hammered in his ears, a frantic rhythm that threatened to drown out all sound. He let out a quiet breath. “I’m lonely too.”

Harold pulled Siebren’s hand down so it was now cupping his face. He leant into it, his eyes fluttering. “You too?”

Siebren nodded. “Men of science like us, we seek the mysteries of the world before us because we are in love with it. We hear the melodies the universe sings for us, and we transcribe it, because we want it to be a love song. It’s confusing, time-consuming, and very very lonely, but we wouldn’t love it if it weren’t all these things.”

“Love?” Harold’s eyes widen.

Siebren smiled. “That’s why we’re here, aren’t we?”

Harold didn’t respond in words. He removed his glasses with one hand, flicked his eyes up to Siebren’s lips, and before he could react, Harold kissed him with the force of a black hole. He was sucked in, pulled in by the gravitational attraction of Harold’s lips, density and mass colliding together with wondrous force.

And then, just as suddenly it appeared, the force disappeared. Their combined breaths melted into stardust. They stared at each other, aware in that moment of the Earth reflected in their eyes, big yet small, significant and insignificant.

Harold retreated, pushing himself away from the table and, indirectly, from Siebren. He quickly put his glasses back on, adjusting them with shaky hands. “S-sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“L-likewise for myself.” Siebren cleared his throat.

Logic would dictate that the moment they shared was an outlier, threatening to corrupt the fabric of their bond. Relationships were messy and required far too much effort, Siebren thought, but then he saw the prism of the Milky Way in Harold’s eyes and wondered if perhaps he required further experiments with the other tools at his disposal. A kiss on the lips is one thing, but what about the caress of a hand, or the whisper to an ear?

Siebren shook his head violently, but it was too late. It was Harold Winston’s life to be exceptionally observant in shifts of behavior. Siebren was transparent, his inner thoughts printed in black and white across his face.

“Dr. de Kuiper…Siebren…you feel the same way, don’t you?”

“Any other time, I would deny this, but in the interest of transparency…yes. I think so.”

Harold nodded vacantly. “A relationship wouldn’t work. You’ll be leaving soon, and I’ll remain up here. The subjects need a familiar face. If I do go down to earth, it won't be for long.” He smiled weakly. “Pretty sure long-distance relationships never had the impassable distance of space to deal with.”

“Harold,” Siebren said forcefully, causing Harold to stiffen in surprise. His face softened. “Tell me the truth. Do you want to pursue a relationship with me?”

Harold paused for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.” He didn’t dare look up at Siebren.

Siebren let out a quiet breath. With as much discipline he could muster, he grabbed his chair and pulled it close to Harold, sitting down. He took Harold’s hands into his own, thumbs tracing planetary orbits. He’d never knew or cared about romance, and now suddenly confronted with this possibility, he wished that he did care, if only so he wouldn’t be at a complete loss like he was now. Research required references and accounts, a base in existing literature to form new ideas and discoveries, but Siebren had none to reliably depend on. What reference was there for this, the bond they shared, the gravity that pulled them together?

“I don’t know how long it will last, but I will give it a try,” Siebren rubbed the back of his head. “Even if I have absolutely no idea how I should behave in a relationship.”

Harold laughed quietly, his nerves dissipating. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned since working here, society’s rules don’t matter here. Up here, the politics and squabbles of earth don't matter anymore.” He leaned forward, the flash of flames in his eyes, a mark of his desire. “I know exactly when the new crew will arrive. We’ve got about 36 hours, give and take.”

“Oh?” Sigma’s eyes widen. “Oh! Uh…OK. Here or…?” He glanced around their surroundings.

“Probably somewhere comfier than here. I mean, unless I totally misinterpreted that and you don’t want to…well…” Harold chuckled nervously. “I just realized how forward that sounded. We can take things slow. I'll honestly be happy with whatever you're happy with.”

Siebren couldn’t help but smile. Wordlessly they stood up, the two of them staring at their conjoined hands. Atoms split apart, forming heat and light where their palms touched. Their thoughts fused together, brain waves synchronizing as an image floated above. It was the two of them, lying side by side on Siebren’s bed, mapping out the stars with their fingertips. Galaxies blossomed with their kisses, the whole expanse of space to explore within the boundaries of a King-sized bed. They look up at each other and knew in that moment that they had found the one. They walked over to the sleeping quarters, hand in hand, safe in the knowledge that, at least for a little while, there was one more person in their small, solitary world that understood them.

* * *

The man known as Sigma flies alone up to Horizon Lunar Colony. It’s been at least a decade, but upon arrival, he notices that nothing has changed in this place. The walls are still that familiar off-white. The moon outside the base is still inviting. The telescope still reaches out for Earth like an outstretched hand, asking for a dance. It’s beautiful, but there’s a staleness to the air, the smell of decay and abandonment. No longer can he hear the hoots and grunts of the chimpanzees, the squeaks of the hamster, or the grunts of the gorillas. The buzzing sounds of the speakers are gone, replaced with a single tone.

Fragmented memories resurface, of the research he performed, of the opportunities he acquired, but most of all on the romance that died in the outer reaches of space. Harold had joked they were star-crossed lovers in a more literal of the word. That was not too long before the fatal incident. Siebren remembered the horror he felt, guilt and regret dunking his face in cold water. He had planned to meet Harold when he touched down on Earth, two weeks after. He had planned to ask Harold if he was willing to take the next step in their relationship. His mother had gifted Siebren his father’s old engagement ring, her silent blessing.

No one could have predicted the animal uprising. Not even sweet, kind Harold, the one person who genuinely cared for the gorillas as living beings and not as test subjects.

Sigma frowns, letting the memories wash away. He cannot let himself get lost to sentimentality. He’s here for one purpose only. He’s here on a mission.

The gravity programs have malfunctioned, bringing back the microgravity of the moon, but Sigma’s powers prove to be beneficial. He walks, not floats, past the entrance hallway, past the break rooms, and enters the laboratory area.

He finds them there, floating near the corner of the laboratory. Papers float in perfect position around them, some scientific in nature, others more intimate passages meant for private eyes. There’s writing on every single piece of paper, starting messy and illegible on the left, before becoming more clear and distinct. Purple veins crept up their skin, tufts of hair sticking out in uncomfortable angles.

Sigma clears his throat loudly, and they turn to him, eyes wide and animalistic. He sees that even their face is distorted and pale, an oxygen mask hiding their nose and lips, the tube winding round their neck and leading down to a makeshift backpack that’s constantly extracting the air and pumping it, purifying it.

“How did you get here?” The voice croaked, barely audible from behind the mask.

Sigma frowns. “I was sent to rescue you. I’ve come to take you back down to Earth.”

They float up to him, propelling forward by the microgravity before pulling to a stop on the table. Sigma waves his hands and they gently fall down, standing on normal gravity. They look up to him, a flash of recognition passing over their eyes like a comet. “Siebren?”

“It’s Sigma now. The man you knew as Siebren de Kuiper is long gone now.”

“He’s not there?” They point at his forehead.

“Bits and pieces, struggling to remain together.” Sigma frowns, as Siebren’s memories return. “I made the same mistake you did. I didn’t double check my math, and I paid the price.”

“And Subject 28?”

“Lived his dreams in Overwatch.”

“Lived?”

“Overwatch is no more. He’s still alive though. Goes by Winston nowadays.”

The figure laughed for a second before coughing violently into their mask. Their eyes smiled. “Of all the names in the world, that’s what he chooses. I should’ve known.”

They start choking suddenly, a horrendous gasp that sounds like the air had turned to poison. Sigma watches as they take a syringe and plunge it into their neck, depressing it right into the carotid artery. The puncture wound heals almost in an instant. Their skin reverts into something that vaguely resembles human flesh.

Sigma takes their hand and slowly leads them out of the laboratory. They’re both wearing gloves, but Sigma still feels the faint heat of their flesh escaping, and the memories flood back. He’s reminded of lonely days in the break room and lonely nights in sleeping quarters, curled up next to someone with a kind face and a kinder heart.

He should consider himself lucky, all things considering. Subject 31, as he’s currently known, has spent years living in complete isolation, the only human contact coming from the Lucheng Intersteller astronauts desperate to find a way to bring him home. The force of gravity is the main issue, the pressure of the spacecraft entering the earth’s atmosphere to high for their fragile body. That is why Talon ordered Sigma to come here and guide him back.

It’s almost cruel how much of their life events intertwine, like the universe is playing games to pull them apart and bring them back together again.

“Where are you taking me?” They ask.

Sigma turns to them, trying his hardest not to smile. It’s difficult, though. Even after all this time, even though his mind is fragile and memories are splintered, a familiar warmth creeps down his chest. “Home, Harold. I’m taking you home.”

There’s a cough, and then a weak laugh. “It’s been so long. I cannot recall how long I’ve been waiting for today.” He turns to Sigma, a smile hidden beneath his mask. “If you’re no longer Siebren, I’m allowed to give myself a new name.”

Siebren laughed quietly. “Then what’s your name now?”

“I’m rather a fan of Tristan, actually.”

“From Tristan and Iseult?”

They shrugged, grinning with their eyes. “I always liked a good story. Even the ones that end in tragedy.”

Sigma can feel years and years of lost and yearning resurface in their eyes, twinkling with the brightness of the North star. It’s the same person underneath that mask, the same brilliant man with a heart as big as the universe. It’s poetic that they find each other again, after years of loneliness. They did once before, and they have done it again today. They cannot escape the black hole that pulls them together, distorting time and space and matter. They always find a way back to each other.

Sigma squeezes his hand tightly. The man now known as Tristan squeezes back. “Let’s go home, Siebren.”

Sigma nods. “We’ve both got a lot of catching up to do, Harold.”

“I can’t wait.”

The entire trip to the spacecraft, they walked hand in hand, afraid that if they let go, they’ll be all alone again, trapped in their gilded cages.

**Author's Note:**

> Plot twist, Harold Winston survived and is now a hero in Overwatch under the name of 'Tristan'. (I mean, there's so many heroes once thought to be dead that turn out to be alive and kicking. Why not another?) I already headcanon him as a healer who uses his technology to turn the air around him into a healing aura or a poisonous mist. If you guys ask, I might give you some extra sneaky hints as to his story and his 'play style', and why the hell he's alive and stuck on Horizon.


End file.
